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It’s Christmas Eve and Izuku is exhausted. A bone deep weariness that comes from too many hours as pro hero Deku and not enough time as just plain, freckle faced Izuku.
It’s almost midnight and his shift technically ended at sundown and yet here he is, still in his green uniform, looking down at the city from his perch atop a tall building. The symbol of Hope standing guard.
The streets are mostly empty now, the couples on their dates have long since finished admiring the pretty lights and have presumably gone on to pursue more romantic activities.
On the building across is a billboard of pro hero Ground Zero in all his 24 by 46 feet glory. It’s a shot taken from an actual villain attack. There is soot on his left cheekbone, smoke all around him and raging fire behind him. Fierce red eyes glitter behind the domino mask and his lips is twisted in more feral smirk than smile. He’s all hard edges and confidence bordering on arrogance. He’s magnificent.
Izuku lets out a long breath that would have been a sigh on anyone else except everyone knows the Symbol of Hope doesn’t do anything as mundane as sigh.
As if conjured, the metal door behind Izuku opens and out comes Katsuki, in street clothes, bulky winter jacket and a backpack slung on his shoulders.
“Kacchan,” Izuku exclaims in surprise. “I thought you went home hours ago.”
“We both got off hours ago, dumbass. Why are you still on patrol?”
Izuku half shrugs and gives Katsuki a sheepish smile. “I took a call. Something minor. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay on for a little longer.”
“Bulletin says that’s 5 hours ago.”
Izuku looks at Katsuki in surprise. “Really? I didn’t realize I was out here so long.”
Katsuki clicks his tongue in irritation, a sound that actually soothes Izuku because of its familiarity and he smiles back at Katsuki.
“I suppose you also forgot to eat. Again.”
Without waiting for his response, Katsuki opens his backpack and takes out a box with a familiar red and white name.
“KFC!!” The smell of the fried chicken wafts to his nose and Izuku suddenly realizes how hungry he is. His stomach growls right on cue.
Katsuki huffs, a sound that would mean annoyance to anyone else but Izuku knows to be amusement.
Urged by his hunger and Katsuki’s smug face, Izuku grabs the box and sits down, his back against the low wall marking the edges of the rooftop, temporarily turning his back on the city below them.
“This is perfect, Kacchan,” Izuku says, gloves off and mumbling around a chicken leg. “How’d you even know how to find me?”
Katsuki flicks his gaze behind Izuku, his own face staring back at him. He doesn’t reply.
Instead he sits down and says “Leave me a chicken leg, Deku, or I kill you.”
Izuku laughs and plays keep-away with the box of fried chicken until Katsuki threatens to blow his face up, and he properly shares the meal, still chuckling.
“Merry Christmas, Kacchan,” Izuku says, green eyes earlier dull with exhaustion now alight with affection and happiness.
Katsuki just huffs in reply.
On this quiet, near perfect evening, this is enough.